


Light 'Em Up (I'm on Fire)

by Philyra



Series: Harder, better, faster, stronger [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hockey, F/M, Gen, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3560048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philyra/pseuds/Philyra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina Mills is the first woman in the NHL and shatters ice ceilings along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Light 'Em Up (I'm on Fire)

It's a cliché in the way all clichés are: she's Canadian and she grows up loving hockey with every fiber of her being. The only difference is – well, the difference is that she is Regina Mills. She has her mother's drive and ambition and her father's steadfast spirit. They serve her well as she starts playing hockey with the boys' teams when she's eight because she needs the challenge.

Her mother sits her down when she's about ten. "Regina, we need to talk about hockey."

Regina blinks because Cora Mills understands hockey, but she never really likes talking about it. "Is it about my last game?" She put up three goals and two assists and knows there were a few coaches who went to talk to her parents afterwards because she's been putting up points like that all season and no one else on her team has come close.

"Yes." Cora pauses slightly. "Do you want to keep playing hockey?"

She cannot help but light up at the question. "Yes, Maman! I want to play for the Habs!" Montreal is her hometown and the Habs are her team. She likes to think she was born wearing a red jersey, and there are certainly baby pictures showing her in a tiny, tiny jersey only days after her birth.

Cora sighs as though she was expecting this. "Regina, women do not play in the NHL." But she's watching Regina carefully as she says it, as though she is gauging her reaction.

"I will," Regina replies, with all the stubborn certainty of a child who doesn't know any better, and why should she? So far, she's had nothing but wonderful experiences. There's always some boy wondering why he's playing with a girl, but she's young enough (and blinded by hockey, to be perfectly honest) not to be bothered by it.

"You will?" Cora echoes, a glint of amusement in her eye as Regina nods enthusiastically. "Well, you are _my_ daughter, so if anyone is going to be the first woman in the NHL, it certainly is going to be you." Her expression hardens, frighteningly so, and Regina would draw back except Cora's reached out and grabbed her hands. "Listen to me, Regina. I know you don't understand this now, but you will soon enough. It's going to be hard. It's going to hurt. You're going to fight for your place every single day of your life because there are plenty out there who think girls - _women_ – can't play like the men. It's not going to be easy. Are you willing to do this?"

The words slot into place in her mind and yes, she might not comprehend everything, she gets enough of it. "Yes, Maman. I want a Stanley Cup." She's dreamt of it before, shiny and silver and waiting for her out on the ice.

"Well." Her mother appears satisfied. "Then go and get it."

Regina keeps her promise and works. She works so hard they keep moving her up through the leagues until she's not just playing with boys, she's playing with _older_ boys. And they do not take well to playing with girls, let alone those who are younger.

At thirteen, Regina knows better than to go to Cora if she wants to cry. Cora has no patience for sympathy and the softer things. No, Regina goes to her father. "They're bullies," she tells him angrily, while tears burn wet tracks down her cheeks. "They say mean things."

"What do they say?" Henry prods gently, coming around the desk in his study to join her on the couch.

"I can't play hockey because I'm a girl."

"Well, that's certainly not true. The trophy case in the living room can attest to that." They've already had to buy another one because Regina's various ribbons, medals, and trophies have already outgrown the first. "What else?"

"I'm not the best."

His lip twitches. "Are you?"

Regina makes a face. "Brandon might be," she admits and oh, how it pains her to say it. She absolutely cannot stand the idea of someone being better than she is.

"Well, then you're just going to have to work harder and become the best. I have no doubt you will, my darling, because you were born to skate."

She tips her head to look up at him and smiles. He always knows exactly what to say. "Yeah, I was."

Her mother shows her what it is to build a tough skin, to fight back against those who try and make her believe she's nowhere near as good as she actually is. But her father – her father's the one who shows her the importance of being able to back up those promises with good old hard work.

Regina can play her best, but she can also play better.

She goes to Shattuck St. Mary's and gets onto the boys' teams, leads them to National Championships two years in a row. She expected to stay there until she graduated, knows her parents did too, but then she's drafted first overall to the Gatineau Olympiques and suddenly, she's the first girl to play in the QMJHL.

Regina enters the locker room for the first time and all the boys go silent. Her chin goes up because she's not going to go quietly to her place, tiptoeing around like she doesn't belong. "What, never seen a girl play hockey before?" She walks over to the stall with her name on it and drops her gear before turning to face the room. "Let's see if you can keep up, _boys_." It's times like those when Regina knows her father would smack his head and mutter about her having absolutely no sense of self-preservation, but she's learned a few things over the years.

One: being the best means there are always going to be those who will hate you. Two: she's not here to make friends.

She's here to win. And she does. She leads the Olympiques to the QMJHL, then the CHL championships. She sets records every year only to shatter them the next.

The year she turns 18 and is eligible to submit her name for the NHL draft, the Olympiques defeat the Kitchener Rangers to take the Memorial Cup. The Rangers have just drafted a female goalie, Mary Margaret Blanchard.

Regina pauses in the handshake line, mildly surprised by how happy she is to see another girl at this level. "You played well," she says.

"Not good enough," is the wry reply. Yes, Mary Margaret looks devastated, but there's a familiar gleam in her eyes, one Regina recognizes all too well.

She grins. "Then be better."

* * *

 

The draft interview questions range from the mundane to the weird. The representative from the New York Rangers asks her, "If you could take a pill that would guarantee you the Stanley Cup, but you'd die at the age of twenty-five, would you take it?"

It makes her frown, honestly. Regina understands the fundamental meaning of the question: would you do whatever it takes to win? But…it's dumb. "No, I wouldn't," she answers honestly. "Because I'd rather work hard and be the best and win the Stanley Cup more than once and not just before I'm twenty-five."

The hounds are already baying for blood. The press says there's absolutely no way a team's going to take her, that a few accolades in the QMJHL mean nothing in the face of being a woman playing professional hockey.

They swallow their words when she goes first overall to the Washington Capitals. Regina _beams_ and receives the hugs from her parents. Henry clutches her tight and cries a little bit into his shoulder, repeating, "My girl, my _girl_." Cora's a bit more sedate, as cool and collected as always, but she whispers fiercely into Regina's ear before she finally relinquishes her hold.

Regina makes her way down the stairs, fully aware of the stares and the whispers interspersed between the applause. It makes her glad she chose to wear the dress, demure and black, over black tights and high stiletto heels. She makes a small promise to herself then and there: she's going to remind everyone with every opportunity that she is in fact a woman.

And she's not going to back down.

When she slides the crimson red Capitals jersey with its white stars over her head, she feels like everything is fitting into place. She shakes the owner's hand and the coach's hand with no problem, even though head coach Albert Spencer is plenty intimidating. However, it's the Capitals' new general manager who makes her blink and startle for the barest of moments, because Archie Hopper is perhaps one of the greatest players in Capitals, if not hockey history. Regina might have had the chance to play with him, but the shattered knee all but forced his retirement. Luckily, the Capitals were quick to keep him as part of the organization.

Archie smiles at her as they come off the stage. "So, you're the one who's been breaking my records in the QMJHL," he remarks in French. His tone is light and jovial.

"Someone had to," Regina responds after a short pause, because she's certainly not going to apologize it, despite being a little star struck.

To her surprise, all three of them – Midas, Coach Spencer, and Archie – laugh. And it's not condescending. "Good," Midas comments. "I'm looking forward to you breaking some of Archie's records here, too. Perhaps another cup or two?" He winks at them before taking Coach Spencer to talk to some of the other owners. "Welcome to the Capitals, Regina."

Archie nods towards the pressroom. "They're waiting for you in there. Shall we?"

Regina squares her shoulders and nods. "Yes." Her mother's words are echoing in her mind as the two of them enter. _Use strong words, Regina. Remind them this is no gamble or fluke. They picked you for a reason and you're going to show them why._

Suddenly, everyone's shouting her name. People are pressing in close, microphones are shoved in her face, and the heat from dozens of flashbulbs threatens to melt her makeup right off. "Regina, did you think this was going to happen?"

 _Be humble but not self-effacing. You cannot allow them to think they can step all over you._ "I had faith," she says finally. "I know how well I play and I had faith a team would recognize it as well."

"How do you feel about the Capitals?"

"I'm grateful they picked me and I'm very excited to be a part of their organization." She sees a few of them make some faces at the canned response and sure enough they press on.

"The Capitals haven't been doing so well lately. Do you think drafting you will help make a difference in how they do?"

Regina might be young, but she's her mother's daughter and she knows when there are sharks in the water. "I think anyone who comes to a team wants to make a difference and I'm no different." She's not going to allow them to make some sort of savior narrative out of her, not if she can help it.

"What do you want to do?"

"Play the best hockey I can," she replies with a charming smile.

"What does that mean for you now?"

It's a simple enough question. "It means there is plenty of practice to do over the summer. I really want to improve all aspects of my game so I come into training camp prepared." This means putting on more muscle, working on her conditioning so she's outskating the other rookies day after day, and running endless drills.

The Capitals did, in fact, pick her for a reason. Now she needs to prove to them, prove to _everybody,_ that she belongs.

* * *

 

Regina makes it through prospect camp easily – and then it's training camp with only the most promising rookies and the team. This is where she really needs to shine. Sure, she's well aware of the fact she'll probably be sent down rather than join the team right away, but it's no excuse to play shoddy hockey. Realistically, developing in the AHL is the best possible thing but Regina didn't come into this wanting to play in the AHL.

Still, she's somewhat surprised when Archie informs her at the end of training camp that she's staying. "And as for your rookie billet-" he looks at her from over the rim of his glasses. "We've talked it over, and if you have no objections, I'd like it if you stayed with me and my wife."

"Um." Regina's used to being billeted with families, but this is a little unexpected. Rookies don't generally live with the general manager – they usually live with older members of the team with their own families, or just an older teammate.

"We have a guest house with its own kitchen, bathroom, and living space, so it'll almost be like you're living on your own," Archie assures her.

"But…this feels like I'm receiving special treatment because I'm a woman." She knows the media's going to comment on this.

Archie nods and it should feel like a dismissive gesture, but Archie's been nothing but kind and understanding throughout Regina's short time with the Caps. "About that…" he presses a button on his phone. "Can you please send Zelena in? Thank you."

The woman who comes through the door is a tall, gorgeous redhead who looks only a few years older than Regina. "Hello, Regina. My name is Zelena Mills." She settles gracefully into the seat beside her and extends a hand with a grin. "No relation, of course."

"It's nice to meet you," she responds cautiously, wondering just what's going on.

"I'll get right to it. The Capitals have hired me to take point on PR not just because of my experience with media relations." She scrutinizes Regina carefully, sea-green eyes missing nothing. "I specialize in gender politics as well."

Suddenly she understands. Having a woman in the NHL is so new they're going to need someone with Zelena's skills to deal with the coming shitstorm. Great. "So, are you the one who suggested different living arrangements for me?" The question comes out more combative than she would like, but the idea of being treated differently right from the get-go rankles.

"That's part of it," Zelena agrees, ignoring Regina's snotty tone. "It will also involve other things. Media training, proper conduct both on and off the ice-"

Regina bristles. "What does _that_ mean?" Are they insinuating she doesn't know how to handle herself in tough situations? She's been perfectly all right in every single media situation she's been thrown into since the draft. She certainly doesn't understand what Zelena's alluding to with regards to her on-ice conduct. Regina doesn't play a dirty game – she simply doesn't have to. Her ability speaks for itself, especially when she's putting up goals. It's not like she intends to do any differently now that she has a spot on the Caps' roster. If anything, it means Regina's going to push herself even harder.

Archie sighs ruefully. "It means we don't want you fighting on the ice, Regina."

Zelena holds up a hand before Regina says something she'll probably regret. Because while she's never dropped the gloves before, the idea of being held back from doing it because of her sex…well, it's bullshit. "Regina, please let me put this into perspective for you. I'm sure you're aware of it to some degree because you're smart, but you are going to be the face of women in the NHL. You are going to be the standard against which all other women are going to be measured when they come into this league. The pressure is going to be enormous, and frankly, it's going to be awful for you. You're going to be on the receiving end of plenty of hate and ignorance."

Zelena leans forward and Regina can't help it – she has her full attention now. "But you cannot allow those naysayers to goad you into certain behaviors. You need to be an example so more women can come into the league. This means you need to be beyond reproach in your conduct and your image because it's just about the only thing we _can_ control," she says with a wry grin at Archie. "Do you understand what this means?"

It's a rather eerie call back to the speech Cora gave Regina when she was ten. Regina's never understood up to this point what breaking the gender barrier would mean. And suddenly it's crystal clear. She's the test. Her actions are going to dictate whether or not this is just a one-time thing, women in the NHL. Like hell if she's going to screw this up for the others like her, the ones who love the ice with everything in them, the ones who play their hearts out regardless of their sex. People like Mary Margaret Blanchard.

Okay. She'll take all their little rules. She'll live with Archie for a year or two, until it's acceptable for her to move out on her own. She'll put on her media face and play the game too – at least she has years of experience with her mother. And fine, she won't fight.

She'll do whatever it takes to show the world she's not a fluke and women deserve a place in the NHL right alongside the men. "All right. Tell me what I need to do."

When Regina finally makes it out of Archie's office, loaded down with dos and don'ts, she's more than a little surprised to find Taj waiting for her. As one of the Caps' alternates (they haven't named a captain since Archie retired), he was assigned to her during the training camp dinner bonding activities. Regina's not entirely sure, but now that she has a spot on the roster, she's probably his rookie. It's not an altogether terrible prospect: Taj is easygoing and accepting. "Hey." He nods towards the door. "Long meeting."

"Yeah."

"Come on, rookie." Well, there's the answer to _that_ question. "We're having a team barbecue over at Andy's place."

Regina's silent for most of the drive over before she speaks. "I don't need a keeper, you know."

Taj just hums and doesn't take his eyes off the road. "What about a friend?"

She's stumped. Her father always worries about the lack of socialization but it's never really bothered her. The girls in school always thought she was a little too intense, though she'd found plenty of similar-minded ones at Shattuck. Who knows, maybe she would've made friends if she stayed. And the boys she played with never seemed to like her, period.

Does she hope it'll be different in the NHL? A little bit, because the men here have to be of a similar mindset to have gotten this far. Her intensity might not be so unusual here.

Taj's sigh interrupts her reverie. "The fact you have to think about it is a little sad, rookie. Do I need to take you out for ice cream or something?"

"That's not in our diet plans," Regina snaps, though the thought of apple pie à la mode (her favorite dessert in the entire world) is superbly tempting. "And you can just shove your pity-"

"She has some life in her, thank goodness." Taj, damn him, looks completely unperturbed by her glare. "I was worried you were going to be some kind of hockey robot, by the way you were acting during training camp. Look, rookie. You're part of a team now, and all of us want you to be here, yeah?" He pulls into a gated community and comes to a stop in front of a nice house with plenty of cars parked out front. "So. How about it? Friends?"

Regina looks him over, all earnestness and patience. "That would be nice," she responds cautiously, then smirks because she has her asshole moments, too. She is, after all, a hockey player. "But only because you were so pathetic about it."

"Hey!" he protests, laughing, as he pops the trunk and retrieves a six-pack of – huh – root beer. "I'm Muslim," he says when Regina's eyes stray to the label. "You're getting off easy, eh rookie? You're never going to get carded buying me drinks, nor is it going to cost you an arm and a leg. I like Shirley Temples," he remarks in a stage whisper.

It actually prompts a laugh out of her as they walk around to the back and Taj grins back, delighted. There's a collective cheer as the two of them come through the gate. "You finally made it!" one of the Solberg brothers – Rune, Regina thinks – calls out. "And you brought the rookie!" He waves Taj over to the coolers and proceeds to steer Regina around, introducing her to some of the wives and girlfriends. "We were betting Taj would adopt you," Rune confides with a wide smile. "He's been dying for a rookie of his own. He misses his brothers."

"Not everyone is so lucky to play with their brothers," Taj remarks, coming back with two bottles of water. He offers one to Regina.

"Thanks." She accepts the bottle because it's _hot_ out. "You have brothers too?"

"Cyrus is in the system with the Hurricanes, and Rafi will be eligible for the draft in two years." His eyes sparkle with fondness and Regina wonders, not for the first time, what it would have been like to have a sibling. At the very least, she would have had a constant hockey playmate.

The barbecue is more fun than she would have imagined. The atmosphere is informal and relaxed, and the guys treat her as – well, a teammate. It's even easier once they realize she can chirp with the best of them, and is willing to be chirped in return.

Perhaps this whole team thing is going to work out just fine.

* * *

 

Everyone expects her to buckle beneath the pressure of her first season, to yield in the face of bigger, faster, and stronger players. There's only one thing wrong with that kind of assumption: she might not be bigger, but she's faster, stronger. _Better_. Regina puts up points right from the start and though she tries her very best, it's evident she cannot carry the team alone.

The media is delighted, of course, crowing over the Caps losing out on a playoff spot and clucking over just how wrong the team was to take her on. How it's all some kind of media stunt to bring attention back – not just to the Caps, but the NHL as a whole.

"It's ridiculous," Zelena comments. Archie and Linnea have invited her over to their usual Sunday night dinner with Regina. It's a little bit of normalcy in the Caps' empty post-season. Regina's grateful because she's not quite ready to go home yet. Perhaps after the NHL awards. "They're calling you the downfall of professional hockey when I think it's exactly the opposite."

Regina shifts uncomfortably and pokes at her salad. "What do you mean?"

Linnea snorts. "What she means is the NHL has screwed up big time – no, honey, don't argue, you know it's true." She glares in Archie's direction. Linnea is a professor of media studies at Georgetown and she's the one who recommended Zelena for the job with the Caps. "They have no money, no people filling up the arenas. They're in dire straits and nothing short of the second coming of Wayne Gretzky is going to help." Archie throws his head back with a laugh, not even flinching as she reaches over to shove at his shoulder.

"And that's where you come in, Regina."

Regina feels her expression go completely blank because _no_. "I am _not_ the second coming of Wayne Gretzky."

"Perhaps not," Zelena agrees easily. She sits back and takes a slow sip of her wine. "But you're the new face of the NHL. Ticket sales have been up, and not just on home ice. People want to see _you_."

Regina reaches for her own glass of wine and gulps it down. Archie refills it with a sympathetic look. "I don't know if I should be insulted _I'm_ not the second coming of Wayne Gretzky, Zelena," he remarks in an attempt to give her time to regroup, or to deflect attention. Either way, Regina's grateful.

"Please." Zelena grins at him fondly. "You're wonderful and everyone knows it, Archie. You reduced a group of grown men into babbling idiots today. But you came in while things were still strong. The success of this franchise and the league as a whole is not dependent on your actions on the ice."

"Except for one," Linnea says, nodding towards Regina.

It takes her a few moments to put everything together. "You're the one who picked me?" she asks incredulously.

"He fought like crazy to get Midas and Spencer on board," Linnea ruffles his hair.

Archie makes a pained face, but grabs her hand and tangles their fingers together in a sweet, absent gesture. "I'll admit to pushing quite a bit to get my way, but it's because you're the best of the best and I knew there was no better place for you than with us," he tells Regina and she flushes because _Archie Hopper_ is complimenting her. Living sort-of under his roof for the past year has not made her immune to his legacy. "Two National Championships at Shattuck, a Memorial Cup, and golds at the U17s and U18s are nothing to sneeze at." He holds his hand up when Zelena opens her mouth. "But I certainly did not bring Regina in to…to _become hockey_. Regina's nineteen, she can't have that kind of pressure-"

"But it's what's happening, regardless of what you _or_ Regina would want." Zelena shrugs. "I'm sorry, but _c'est la vie_."

Regina stands abruptly, wincing as the chair legs squeak and scrape across the floor. The adults stare at her with varying expressions and she manages a parody of a smile. "If you'll excuse me I'm just…going to go to the bathroom."

She barricades herself in the ground floor powder room, fighting the urge to vomit. As it is, she flops down heavily on the toilet, puts her head between her knees, and forces herself to take deep breaths until she stops shaking.

This is exactly what she _didn't_ want. All she wants is to play her heart out and be the best amongst the best. She certainly doesn't want to _be_ hockey, as Archie said. She has enough expectations weighing down on her as it is. It's like she can't do anything right. If she wins, she's too cocky. If she loses, she lacks a competitive edge. If she outplays the guys, she's too competitive. If she slumps…well, she just sucks.

She's the first woman in the NHL. Why can't it be enough?

The voice in her head sounds exactly like her mother. _What did you expect, Regina? Breaking an unspoken gender barrier in professional sports means much more than being a woman amongst men. It means taking on responsibilities and shouldering burdens that would make a lesser human being buckle._

_It means becoming a leader._

The second voice sounds like her father. _You were born for this._

Regina exhales and slowly, all the tension leaks out of her body. Is the prospect fucking scary? Of course it is. Is it going to be difficult? Yes, but when has she ever encountered anything that was easy? Is she going to screw up? Probably. But this is the life she was born to. This is the path she's chosen, and she'll be damned if she doesn't approach everything with one hundred percent of everything she is.

She'll face whatever she has to face so long as she can keep doing what she loves.

Regina marches back into the dining room, her head raised high. "All right. When do we begin?"

She wins the Calder, just as Zelena predicted. And it's just the beginning.

When Regina returns to the Caps locker room at the beginning of camp, she's more than a little nonplussed to find a white A emblazoned on the front of her jersey. "What. The _hell_ ," she breathes, reaching out and then snatching her hand back.

Taj peers over her shoulder and grins. "Are you truly so surprised, Queens?"

She elbows him hard, smiling viciously as his breath wheezes out of his lungs. "Don't call me that." Her carefully constructed media persona (courtesy of her mother and Zelena) paired with her natural aloofness spawned the nickname, "The Queen." She pounded the first teammate to jokingly call her "Your Majesty" into the boards, but unfortunately "Queens" stuck. Her one consolation is the guys do it out of a very misguided sense of love.

That misguided sense of love gets them into trouble sometimes. Regina's very, very used to being targeted, but they're not. They're currently 1-1 with the Blue Jackets after the first period, and Mags has already incurred a major for fighting. "They keep fucking with you," he growls around his split lip, completely unrepentant.

"And how is it different from last year?" Regina demands, looming over him as much as she can, hands on her hips. She's fairly certain Taj is laughing at her, but then Taj is the only one on the team who's not intimidated by her "scary face."

"It's not, and that's the problem," Andy comments from the other side of the room.

" _We've been over this._ " Oops. She tries not to shout but evidently isn't successful this time around. Whatever, she has an A, she can shout if she wants. There certainly aren't any cameras around to see. "You don't understand. You keep fighting other teams for me and everyone's going to say I'm a delicate flower who needs protecting. It'll be another reason for them to spout bullshit about how women don't belong here and you know what that's going to do? It's going to keep other women out and I _refuse_ to be the reason why other women can't play!"

The guys fall silent. Regina meets every single pair of eyes until they nod or at least don't look as mutinous. She heaves a sigh. "You have to respect me. I can take care of myself. Stay out of the fucking box guys, you can't do a goddamn thing when you're there anyway."

" _You_ were in the box for tripping," Rune finally pipes up from where he's retaping his socks and finally, the atmosphere is a little easier.

Regina scowls at him. "Because that asshole was fucking obstructing me and no one was calling it. It's completely different."

" _Suuuuure_ ," Taj drawls. She flips him off, then turns her attention back to Mags. "You really want to help me? You and Rune can spend extra time pushing me down in practice."

He looks bewildered. "How would it help?"

"I can figure out how to keep hold of and shoot the puck when people are trying to distract me." The more she thinks about it, the more she likes the idea. It would just rile them up, if she still manages to score while being hit.

The entire room is staring at her. "That's-" Rune begins.

"It's dedication, is what it is," Coach Spencer says gruffly from the doorway, and Regina has to fight from blushing. "And it's exactly what we need. Good work, Mills."

Regina eventually gets the Caps to the playoffs before the Bruins boot them out. She wins the Art Ross, so she can't complain about her season. Still, there's always room for improvement.

* * *

 

She's invited for Olympics training camp and is more than a little stunned because it's the _Olympics._ She was on the women's Worlds team the previous year, but the Olympics is so much _more_. It's the chance to play for her country at the highest level and best of all it will be on home turf.

"I admit, it's going to be pretty interesting," Davidson tells her over speakerphone. "The media's going to go crazy."

Now Regina knows why she's taking the call in Zelena's office. "Why?"

Zelena sits back in her chair and opens her hands. "Turin."

Regina winces because the memory of the men's loss still hurts. At least the women won gold. "But what does this have to do with me?"

"You're the first woman in the NHL to play in the Olympics," Zelena points out patiently. "Plenty of people are going to want you for the men's team, especially with the points you've been putting up the last two years."

It makes sense. And when word finally breaks, it doesn't matter how many times Regina says it's an honor to play for Canada, regardless of whether she's on the men's or women's team. There's always a camp that thinks she being snotty because she's in the NHL and the other female players aren't.

Regina worries if the other women are of the same mind when she arrives for Olympics training camp. To her absolute relief, she's welcomed right into the fold. She's assigned to a room with Mal and spends plenty of time with Cru and Ursula as well. She's almost forgotten what it's like to play hockey with women who love the sport as much as she does. She wishes she could bundle the entire team up in her luggage and take them back with her.

It seems like the hockey gods are listening, because Regina receives the news at camp – in the second round of the draft, the Blackhawks take Mary Margaret Blanchard and the Lightning take Kathryn Nolan. Mary Margaret's in the western conference, so their paths won't cross all too often. At least Kathryn's in the same conference. Regina spends a decent amount of time tracking down their numbers, and an even longer amount of time staring at her phone before she types out a message.

_It's about time, ladies. Welcome to the NHL. I'm so glad you're here._

Kathryn's reply is almost immediate. _Better watch out, Mills. I'm coming for you_. Regina laughs out loud, absolutely delighted.

Mary Margaret's reply is a bit later. _Thanks, Regina. I hope we play each other soon._

When Regina finally looks up from her phone, Mal is smirking at her. "What?"

"That's why Coach and the others are thinking of making you captain, Millsy." Her voice is honest, if a little envious. "You're a natural."

She drops her phone. " _Me?_ No way. I'm too young…it should be Wicks or Ouellette!" The thought has never even crossed her mind. Well, it's not entirely true, she was thinking of being assigned as an alternate, but there are so many women on the team with more experience.

"Millsy." Mal rolls her eyes and comes over to sit beside her. "You want to tell me why you spent so much time trying to get hold of Blanchard and Nolan?"

"I-" She doesn't quite know how to respond. "I don't want them to feel alone." Not the way she did.

Mal tosses her head back and her laughter is wild and bright. "See? You're definite captain material. Come on, let's see if there are any crappy rom-coms playing."

Mal's words are prophetic, because when Davidson announces the final roster at the end of camp, Regina's named captain with Wickenheiser and Ouellette as her alternates. She finds herself at the bottom of a dog pile of screaming, laughing women. It's pretty great.

When Regina arrives back in Washington for training camp, there's another surprise waiting for her. Archie and Coach Spencer are waiting and a jersey is sitting innocuously on Archie's desk. One would have to be blind to miss that it's Regina's, only the A has been replaced with a C. "Is this a joke?" she inquires.

"We've been talking about this for quite some time, Regina," Archie replies, and he's grinning like he's proud of her. "You've more than proven yourself a leader, both on and off the ice."

She's about to make the same argument she made to Davidson, that she's too young, but clamps her mouth shut. She trusts Archie's judgment and she knows Coach Spencer never does anything he doesn't _want_ to do.

Besides, if she doesn't take the captaincy now, who knows when it will be offered to another woman? She doesn't know Mary Margaret, Kathryn, or their teams well enough to guess. It's as Zelena said – she has to lead by example. "Thank you," she says after a long, slow breath. "I won't let you down."

Regina takes Taj and Rune aside before management can make the announcement to the rest of the team. It's her job now, and she should be the first to know if this is going to be a problem. She doesn't think it will be, Taj and Rune have enjoyed sharing the responsibility with her last year, but one never knows.

Taj almost looks like he's going to start crying. Regina shrieks a little bit when he lifts her off her feet, which is no small thing when she's spent the entire summer bulking up as usual. "My rookie is my captain now!"

"Yeah," she wheezes once he's relinquished his grip. "You…don't mind?"

He squints at her. "You thought it would be a problem?" He almost seems disappointed she would even think it.

"You're the one who said it," she points out uncomfortably. "I was your rookie, now I'm your captain. And I'm-"

"The right choice," Rune interrupts, rolling his eyes. "Surely you've noticed everyone on this team will follow you to hell and back, right Queens?" He exchanges a look with Taj. "We all knew this was going to happen anyway. And better you than us."

"We're not going to stop pranking you though. And you're buying the first round tonight, seeing as you're captain and all," Taj remarks happily, slinging his arm around her shoulders.

She scowls. "I'm not even legal here yet."

There's nothing more to it, really. The rest of the team react in the same manner, and Regina _definitely_ pays for the first round when they go out that night, even if Taj is the one who goes up to order the drinks from the bar. The tray of Washington Apple shots goes down well, though Regina makes sure to grab two Shirley Temples – one for Taj and one for Cyrus, who has just been traded to the Caps. Regina has to wonder if her team is making a habit of putting brothers together. At this rate, she won't be surprised if they draft the youngest Solberg, even if Andy, Rune, and Mags claim Hans is a little shit.

Taj is true to his word, and the guys continue to prank her. She's not sure how they pull it off with management, but for the year's first "Skate With the Caps," the entire team shows up wearing specialized Caps jerseys with the phrase, "If found, please return to Regina Mills" on the front.

Regina is presented with a jersey proclaiming, "I am Regina Mills."

"You _guys_ ," she groans with absolute despair. The locker room dissolves into hilarity. She's pretty sure Andy and Rune are holding each other up. "How is anyone supposed to take us seriously?"

Regina's parents are actually down in Washington for the event. Her father thinks it's the best thing _ever_ , snapping photos every single time a little kid skates over to Regina with a player in tow, blabbing, "I found one of your players, Captain!" The Caps Vision video team is absolutely _delighted_.

Even Cora seems amused. "They trust you," is all she says before she glides over to Archie, no doubt to interrogate him on one subject or another.

The best part about the skate is the sheer number of girls who've dragged their families out so they can see Regina. She doesn't mind this part of her press obligations – in fact, she'll take them over media scrums any day. She signs jerseys, posters, pucks, and sticks until Zelena has to run and fetch her another Sharpie because hers actually ran out of ink. She takes dozens of photos and makes sure to chat to every single child who comes up to her.

There's one girl in particular who's been hovering in Regina's general vicinity, shy and dark-skinned and clutching a stick. Regina's been waiting for her to approach, and certainly the girl's parents have been trying to urge her forward, only for her to bite her lip and shake her head.

Finally, the crowd around Regina clears enough for her to pretend like she just happened to catch the girl's eye. She grins and skates over. "Hi, I'm Regina. What's your name?"

The girl's eyes go wide and round. "Alex," she squeaks out. Her long black hair is neatly plaited back and falls almost to her waist. She's wearing Regina's jersey from last year, one that still has an A on it. "You're my favorite player," she blurts and blushes. She can't be more than twelve.

"Is that so?" Regina beams. She doesn't think she'll ever get tired of being told she's someone's favorite player. "Thank you very much." She nods at Alex's stick. "Do you play?"

Alex's face lights up. "Yeah!" She sobers a little bit, and then leans in towards Regina. "I play with boys too, and some of them don't like playing with me. Daddy thinks I could get hurt, but Mommy says I could be like you."

There's a world of uncertainty in Alex's voice, and Regina can't let it go. She kneels down on the ice so they're face-to-face. "Do you like playing?"

"I _love_ playing," she declares.

"Then keep at it. Never mind what those boys think. Don't be afraid of getting hurt." She smiles ruefully, thinking of the bone bruise that kept her leg in ice braces and slush buckets and her off skates just last week. "I get hurt all the time, but it doesn't stop me. Don't let it stop you. Work hard. I want to see you playing here someday, all right?"

"With you?" Alex asks, awed.

"With me," she confirms. She points over to where some of the players are helping the kids take shots on Andy. "Come on, let's start now."

Alex looks overwhelmed at the suggestion but she comes along, passing the puck back and forth with Regina before she slides a beauty of a shot right in Andy's five-hole. She definitely sheds a few happy tears when Regina gets Zelena to grab her a new Mills jersey, one with a C on the shoulder, and signs it. She hugs Regina tightly, breathes out a thank you, and leaves with her parents, waving shyly over her shoulder as she goes.

"You are a marshmallow at heart," Taj informs her, skating up on her other side.

"And you're a peasant," she says sweetly, grateful for the distraction. She's liable to start crying herself. "Honestly, Tink married below her station." Tink is the Caps' terrifying head doctor, and one of Regina's best friends in the organization.

"My wife has excellent taste!" he exclaims.

"In friends, not husbands!" she chirps back.

Tink almost falls over laughing when Taj recounts the story to her later in order to gain some sympathy. "Well, she's not wrong."

* * *

 

Regina's reluctant to leave her team so soon into her captaincy, but it's Vancouver and the Olympics and well, she's the captain there too. Promotions are intense – _everyone_ knows about Canada's Own the Podium campaign and Regina tries very, very hard not to think about what will happen if she fails to bring the gold. The weight of an entire country's expectations sit on her shoulders and she can only hope she can carry it.

To make things worse, she's dressed in red and white 24/7 and getting her team to practice and various bonding events. They try sledding, which is a bad idea because several members almost get concussed, then curling, which is a better one (Regina turns out to be _awful_ and she doesn't take it well at all – she's competitive, okay?).

Then it's their first game against Slovakia, and it's a blowout, 18-0. Regina, Mal, and Cru all net hat tricks. It's a solid opener and proof positive they're playing well together. They ignore the articles criticizing the way they ran up the score, never mind how Slovakia pounded Bulgaria 82-0 in the qualifying rounds.

They roll over Switzerland 10-1, then Sweden 13-1. Ursula certainly lives up to her nickname "The Octopus" because her limbs are everywhere, stopping shot after shot. Regina grabs hat tricks in all of the games, running up records in Olympic hat tricks and goals in women's ice hockey. It's a damn good feeling.

She sees some of the guys from time to time, because of course all the Solbergs are on the Norwegian team. Taj is playing for the Canadian men's team, so their paths cross more often. They try and meet up for breakfast in the mornings, and this one is no different. Well, her semifinal match-up is that afternoon and his is tomorrow. As bad as the pressure is for the women's team, at least they won gold in Turin. The men have more of an uphill battle, even though they've been playing gloriously _._ "Hey. You guys will be all right."

He grins crookedly. "You're really taking this captain thing seriously, aren't you rookie?"

"Shut up."

Taj digs an elbow into her side after a while. "Thanks."

Both teams win their semifinal games and it's the gold medal match against the USA.

It's a tough match from the start. Regina really would love to find all the reporters who have insinuated playing against other woman would be easier or a step down. In actuality, it's fucking _hard_. The women on Team USA are the best of the best for a reason and for every Canadian point there's an answer. It's especially ridiculous when the USA is down 2-1 in the third period and Chu ties it up with less than a minute to go.

But then it's overtime, and all of Regina's focus narrows in on the puck. Mal's battling it out at the boards, knocks it loose, and gets it right on Regina's tape. Both of the USA defenders are too far away, distracted by the play along the boards, so it's just Regina and Vetter. She goes forehand and backhand, faking her signature high shot, then goes five-hole when Vetter raises her glove.

Regina's staring at the goal light one second and buried beneath her team the next. For a moment, she thinks she's gone deaf because the crowd is on their feet and _roaring._ "We won?" she asks dumbly when she's finally yanked to her feet. "We won!"

"Fucking right we won, Millsy!" Cru screams in her ear.

She twists her head around to catch a glimpse of her parents. Her father is bawling, as expected, but Cora is crying too and manages a small nod that means absolutely _everything._ Regina feels wetness on her face and shouts, "I love you!" to them through the glass before her team scoops her up for another round of celebrations and someone drapes the flag over her shoulders. She nearly drowns in champagne that night but it's absolutely worth the god-awful hangover the next morning.

Regina thinks she's going to vibrate out of her skin when she steps up to the podium and yes, she still cries like a baby as the national anthem plays while the flag goes up. The weight of the gold medal on her chest is no burden: it's a promise. "Better win that Stanley Cup, eh?" Ursula tells her afterwards. "You'll be the first woman in the Triple Gold Club."

"You bet your ass I'm going to be there," Regina responds.

The Caps don't win the Stanley Cup, but they get to the finals before having their asses handed to them by the Canucks. It's fine, there's always next year, and the Caps haven't gotten this far since Archie's early years with the team nearly a decade ago. Regina still comes away from that season with the Prince of Wales trophy for her team as well as the Rocket Richard, so it's a good year.

* * *

 

Regina's nearly beside herself when the Habs draft Mulan Hua. Mulan only plays four games with the Bulldogs before she's called up. Mary Margaret and Kathryn also move up from the AHL, and it's so quick for goaltenders and defensemen she almost can't believe it. But now there are four women playing in the NHL and three of them are in the Eastern Conference.

She meets Mulan first in an away game in Montreal. It's always strange playing in her hometown, and she's happy the fans seem to be utterly and completely torn about it as well. On one hand, Regina's their golden girl. She won Olympic gold on home soil and is lighting it up in the NHL like no one else.

But she's not a Hab. She _is_ the only player from the Caps to receive any cheers as they're introduced, but the welcome quickly turns sour as she does what she does best. Regina feels a little bad, but she's never going to apologize for winning.

Still, she musters an apologetic smile for Mulan as she exits the Habs' locker room after the game, though it probably comes out more like a grimace. They didn't manage to have much ice time together – Mulan's currently playing on the fourth line, so their shifts only coincided on one power play in the second. "Hello."

Mulan shuffles a little bit, looking massively uncomfortable. "It's nice to meet you," she offers in French.

Regina blinks and snorts. " _Crisse_ , your accent's terrible."

The younger woman flushes and switches to English as well. "I was in the USHL, I'm learning." Regina's chirping has the desired effect though, and the set of her shoulders is more relaxed.

"Come on, let's get poutine."

That startles a laugh out of her. "Definitely not in our diet plans."

"I won't tell if you won't. And I haven't had a decent one in _ages._ We'll go to my favorite place."

They're instantly recognized and have to stop for photos and autographs, but luckily are left alone soon enough once their food arrives. "So, is this the welcome wagon?" Mulan inquires, poking at her poutine like it might bite her.

Regina's a professional athlete. She's very, very good at pretending her food has her entire focus, and it's not so difficult when the food is damn delicious. "It can be. It also doesn't have to be. Your choice."

Mulan makes a thoughtful noise. "Any advice on our play?"

She can feel her eyebrows shoot up. "You want advice from me?"

"Who knows, maybe you'll drop a secret or two." The only way to describe her small smile is cheeky, the little shit.

Regina has to fight down a wave of gratitude because this is what she's been waiting for – this sense of camaraderie. She had a taste of it in the Olympics, but this has the potential to be even better. "You wish. But maybe get your D to talk to each other more."

When pictures of their little outing pop up on social media, Regina receives a text from Kathryn. _You didn't invite me? Rude_.

 _We play you in two weeks_ , Regina sends back. _We'll go out then._

_Yeah, and you'll buy me drinks because we're going to smash you._

_You can try._

The Caps shoot to the top of the Metropolitan division that year. Regina feels a little hunted, like an enormous target has been painted on her back. The pressure's insane but somehow it fuels her, and there are very few games where she does not pull out points.

Therefore it's no surprise when she's called up for the All-Star game in Toronto. She knows what to expect but there's no denying it will be strange. Every time she faces these players they're out for her blood, and now the NHL expects some friendly competition?

Regina's not sure she comprehends the definition of the term. At least Andy's coming with her.

The draft format makes her nervous. She liked the other game formats better, East versus West, as it should be. This just smacks of media hype (it's no surprise, knowing Gold) and all right, she'll admit she doesn't want to be picked last. She doesn't know how good her chances are with Jafar El-Hashem of the Coyotes, as they rarely ever play them. Her best chance is with Einar Solberg, captain of the Maple Leafs, since she's his little brothers' captain.

She's always conscious of her sex, but never more so now as she settles into her seat amongst her suit-clad colleagues. She's wearing Capitals' red, of course, with lipstick to match and five-inch heels so she can at least _look_ the same height as some of the guys.

There's a little bit of jostling to Regina's right, and suddenly the seat beside her is occupied. "Do you mind if I sit here?" Robin Locksley asks.

"You're already sitting. Pretty sure I can't stop you," Regina observes dryly.

He grins and – wow. It's a nice smile, wide and white and completely genuine. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he extends a hand. "So I am. Robin."

"Regina." She's never had an opportunity to speak to him – she thinks they've played the Wild only once or twice since she was drafted.

"I know who you are," he laughs. It's warm and not mocking at all, like he's inviting her to share in the joke. "I'm pretty sure you're going to be picked first."

"You think they're going to pick _the girl_ first?" Regina drawls, wishing she had a glass of wine rather than a bottle of water. She's not touching the paper cups with beer; god knows how long they've been sitting out.

The man actually has the audacity to roll his eyes at her and okay, she kind of likes him for it. "You've been the top scorer in the league for the past two years, you tell me."

Before Regina can respond, Andy plops into the open seat on her other side. "Is everything all right here?" he asks mildly, shifting forward and – oh yes, wearing his crazy goalie face. Of all the times for him to be protective. Regina would expect that type of behavior from the other guys on the team, but not Andy. He's usually too busy sitting in a corner and contemplating his hobby of the week.

Besides – she glances down and Robin's wearing a wedding ring. She shrugs off the slight pang of disappointment because he seems nice and has a lovely smile. Still, she has too high a profile to have any semblance of a normal dating life. Zelena would probably kill her if she managed to find one. Her last relationship started at Shattuck and she'll always love Daniel, but if he couldn't deal with the long-distance pressures of the QMJHL, there's no way they would have lasted through the NHL.

Robin's warm laugh brings her back to the present. "Of course, I was just telling Regina she should expect to be picked first."

Andy's expression eases and he even scoffs a little bit. "Already taken care of. I told Einar he'd be stupid to take anyone else."

"You were lobbying _for_ me?"

Andy shakes his finger at her. "Someone has to. You never would lobby for yourself."

Regina would protest, but the lights go down and the draft begins. There's the usual amount of media posturing, the captains and alternates are introduced-

"You should have been one of the alternates," Andy grumbles, utterly displeased. Regina stomps hard on his foot because someone around them has to be mic-ed up and it would be just her luck if TSN plays it later. Andy doesn't even have the decency to look hurt.

"I'm sure she'll be a captain at the next game," Robin whispers back and since when does she have a fan club?

Einar wins the puck toss and briefly confers with his alternates, Lance Wallace of the Blackhawks and Michael Tillman of the Predators. They're just loud enough to hear over the microphone. "Yes, we need to beat the other team to it, let's go," Lance murmurs.

The huddle breaks and Einar turns back to the microphone. "Our first selection is one of the best and most interesting players in the league and a top goal-scorer. From the Washington Capitals, we pick Regina Mills."

There's no time to conceal her surprise. Regina's just happy she makes it up to the stage in one piece. She shakes Einar's hand and pulls the blue and white Team Solberg jersey over her head.

"Well!" the announcer says delightedly, coming over. "First overall in the NHL draft, and now first overall in the All-Star game draft. How are you feeling, Regina?"

Thank goodness he phrased the question that way. If he'd asked her thoughts about where she would've been placed in the draft, she's sure she would have said something Zelena and Cora would have yelled at her for later. "I'm feeling very happy, thank you. It's an honor to be chosen first."

"Einar, can you tell us why you went for Regina first?"

The tall captain slings a wry, unimpressed look his way. "Regina is a very talented player and we wanted to get her before the other team did." The announcer lets them go and Regina makes sure to shake Lance and Mike's hands before she sits down. It's a little awkward sitting by herself in the middle of the stage, but Robin joins her soon enough when Jafar selects him as Team El-Hashem's first pick.

"It's a shame," Robin comments as he settles at Regina's side once more, wearing the white and red of Team El-Hashem. "I was hoping we'd be on the same team."

Regina's lips twitch. Yeah, she likes him. "There's always next year. In the meantime, you'll have to deal with us beating you."

"Oh, is that how it is?" Those blue eyes crinkle at the corners as though he's absurdly pleased she's chirping him.

"That's how it is," Regina agrees loftily, and follows through by annihilating him in the accuracy shooting and the actual game the following days.

* * *

 

It's Game Seven of the Stanley Cup finals, and Regina's just about had it with the LA Kings. She's had it with their fans and their stupid signs, she's had it with their fucking antics because _this is not soccer, damn it, stop it with the fucking embellishments_ , and she's had it with flying from LA to DC all week long. Most of all she's had it with the fucking Author and Sorcerer. Because really, what kind of nicknames are those? Bastards. She really wants to knock their teeth out.

Levels of dirty play have escalated throughout the finals, and this game is no exception. Regina's done her best to keep her guys from making stupid penalties, but it's meant shouting. So much shouting. She's surprised she still has a voice, but it probably has something to do with Tink shoving hot toddies at her every night. "I don't care if you add it to your merry-go-round of superstitions, but you're going to finish your drink," Tink says resolutely, standing over Regina to make sure she finishes the drink. "All of Washington is going to be out for my head if you get sick and can't play."

"You didn't put too much alcohol in here, right?" Regina can't tell over the combination of lemon and honey. "You know I can't-"

"Dear god, Regina, it's only a shot and the mug is huge. Drink the goddamn hot toddy."

Luckily, the Kings are the ones playing a little sloppy, making stupid penalty after stupid penalty. She might not appreciate them taking cheap shots at her team, but she definitely appreciates being on the stronger side of an odd-man rush. She's waiting for Coach Spencer to put her shift out on the power play when she spots something on their end of the ice. "Is Andy doing the wave?" she asks incredulously.

Taj snickers. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Goalies," she mutters, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She saw him passing the puck with the Kings' goalie during one of the bigger fights earlier in the game, a back and forth that continued as she and the Sorcerer negotiated the penalties with the referees.

"He's bored," Cyrus calls as the three of them scramble over the boards for the power play. "Give him a break!"

"Better bored than besieged!" Regina tosses back, because power plays haven't stopped the Kings from trying to make as many shorthanded goals as possible. Andy's been plenty busy.

"Anytime you want," the Author snarls as Regina comes to challenge him for the puck. As predicted, the Kings are making a play towards the Caps' zone.

She gives him a disdainful look through her visor. "Anytime?" her voice drips sarcasm. "Doesn't sound very promising." She steals the puck away on the backcheck, proving her point.

Later, the two of them are battling it out, throwing elbows back and forth when he hisses, "You're useless, you don't do a goddamn thing, know that? You're dead weight."

"You're doing a spectacular job yourself," she snaps just as she manages to slap the puck free, right where Cyrus is waiting. He takes it around the boards and comes in front of the net, turning his head and clearly telegraphing a pass back to Regina. The play works beautifully, with the goalie turning to block Regina and the defensemen moving towards her. Cyrus is suddenly clear and slips the puck in, neat as can be. Regina grabs him in a hug, bellowing, "That's how you make a play!"

When they face off again, Regina smirks at the Author. "You should have kept your mouth shut." It's absolutely worth the shove.

There's a minute left in the third period and the score is tied, 3-3. The Kings pull their goalie and it's a hard fight out in the Caps' zone. Coach Spencer's switched things up, putting Regina, Taj, and Cyrus out on a line and she knows it's because he wants them to do something absolutely spectacular so they don't go into overtime. Regina and Taj don't play on the same line often, but they're best friends and somehow they find each other, complimenting Regina and Cyrus' easy chemistry and the brothers' years spent playing together.

Andy plays like a well-oiled machine, making save after beautiful save. Cyrus grabs one of the deflections and passes it to Taj, who doesn't even look at Regina but sends it ahead to where she's waiting.

Regina gets the puck on her tape and _flies_ towards the empty net. She can hear the defenseman hard on her heels and then – she feels the stick hook around her shin pad and knows she's about to be tripped. But she's practiced this move over and over again with Rune and Mags, making the shot out from the blue line as she goes down.

Even as Regina scrambles to her feet, the puck slides into the net. A split second later, the horn sounds and the linesman is declaring it a goal.

She's pretty sure the arena explodes. Bodies crash into her from all directions and soon enough she's hauled onto her teammates' shoulders so she can be paraded around for all the Verizon Center to see. It's all a bit of a haze, really, from the victory laps to the interviews to the final ceremony where she not only gets to lift the Stanley Cup to an uproarious home crowd, but takes the Conn Smythe too.

When she raises the Stanley Cup, she's pretty sure all of Washington can hear the cheers of the people in the stadium. And fuck, she's done it. She's the first woman to raise the Stanley Cup.

Taj grabs her in a massive bear hug, spinning her around as they finally make their exit down the tunnels. "Triple Gold Club!" he cheers in her ear.

"Triple Gold Club!" she echoes, slightly stunned. She can still see the silvery glint of the Stanley Cup as Coach Spencer bears it towards the locker room and the entire thing is just a little unreal.

"I'm so proud of you, rookie," Taj continues, slinging his arm around her shoulder as they walk down the tunnel, the sounds of their teammates' cheers bouncing off the concrete walls. "You are the best hockey player in the world. It's truly an honor playing with you."

Regina blinks back the tears because the statement is sappy as fuck and she's cried enough. Then she thinks _screw it_ because they're Stanley Cup champions and they've _earned_ this. "Aw, I love you too, old man. Now come on, I want champagne!"

There's a rap song playing in the locker room when they finally make their way in, something with a fast, driving beat and words going almost too fast for her to make out, until a woman joins in and suddenly the guys are screaming, "YOU CAN BE THE _KINGS_ BUT WATCH THE QUEEN CONQUER!"

Regina takes a moment to look at them – her guys, her _team_ and she loves them so much. They battled this out together, won it together. There's never going to be another moment that feels like this.

So she curtseys as delicately as she can in hockey pads and skates, accepts the champagne bottle from Rune, and proceeds to spray it over the locker room before taking a big gulp herself, smiling so wide her face hurts.

It's good to be the queen.

* * *

 

She's looking forward to this year's NHL awards more so than any previous year. This year, she's no longer walking the carpet as the sole female player in the NHL: Mulan, Kathryn, and Mary Margaret are right there with her. And hopefully, after next week's draft, there will be even more next year.

She hopes girls like Alex saw the finals and realized women can not only play in this league, but _win_. She wants to see the women beside her succeed (though not at the expense of her own team, of course). She wants everyone to know the sky's the limit and nothing's a barrier, not even gender.

"Are you excited to hold the Stanley Cup again?" a reporter asks her on the red carpet.

"Absolutely. We can't wait until we get to start passing it around, though." She has plans to place it in front of her three trophy cases in her parents' house in Montreal.

"Who on the team will have first dibs on it, you think?"

"Probably Archie," Regina responds with a grin. She still remembers his expression in the locker room as Coach Spencer handed it over, holding it carefully with a fond, distant look in his eyes.

"It probably brings back a lot of good memories for him, huh?"

"Oh, absolutely. There are very few people as happy as Archie to bring the Cup back to Washington."

"And how does it feel now that people are calling you the greatest player of your generation?"

The question absolutely blindsides her. Regina blinks for a moment before trying to recover her faculties. "I've certainly never heard someone say that. It's certainly a compliment. All I can do is play my best."

The reporter looks a little disappointed at the standard answer and tries again. "Do you think they're right? You're up for plenty of awards tonight."

Oh hell. There's almost no way to answer that question without looking completely cocky or like a pushover. Her mind races, trying to string together the right phrases. She can just picture Zelena going berserk somewhere on the other side of the country and not knowing why.

Kathryn pops up out of nowhere. "Regina has to win everything," she announces with a mischievous little smirk. "I guarantee next year she'll be up for the Norris and the Vezina as well." And she just keeps on chatting until they're out of the press line.

"Impressive," Regina comments, brushing an invisible speck of dust off her dress.

"Yes, well your face was clearly screaming 'help me,'" Kathryn replies. "Even though it's clearly true. You're going to need a golf cart to get all your trophies back tonight."

"Oh please. Don't be ridiculous." She's probably blushing, damn it.

Kathryn sighs gustily. " _I'm_ ridiculous? Hey guys," she calls over to the nearest group. "Regina's the best player out there right now, right?" There's a crazy little glint in her eyes, as though she's just daring them to disagree. Regina thinks she might have to revise her notion that goalies are the only crazy ones. After all, defensemen voluntarily block shots, too.

"Of course she is," one of them responds and – oh. It's Robin. He breaks away from his group to come over to them, hand extended. "Congratulations on a fantastic season, Regina. That was one beauty of a shot in Game Seven."

All right, now she _knows_ she's blushing. And from Kathryn's raised eyebrows, she definitely caught it. "Thank you, Robin."

One of his teammates calls for him and he waves over his shoulder. "Allow me to buy you a drink later, all right?"

"Sure." She smiles as he jogs off and turns to find Kathryn looking at her with nothing less than mad glee. "What?"

"He's so into you."

"He's _married_."

"Divorced," Kathryn interjects, eyes straying to where Robin disappeared. "Or separated, unless I'm reading the lack of ring on his finger wrong."

What? It's only been a few months since the All-Star game, how can things have changed so quickly? But before Regina can ruminate further, the ushers start shooing everyone inside for the ceremonies.

Regina does hold the Stanley Cup again, is re-presented with the Conn Smythe, wins the Art Ross again, and takes the Hart. She privately acknowledges the reporter's earlier question – perhaps he was right.

At the after party, Regina gets more than a drink – she has a long conversation with Robin out on the rooftop terrace. "I didn't think I was going to make the team," he confesses. "There are so many talented players, and I'm technically only half-Canadian – my mother," he clarifies when Regina makes a questioning noise. "I bounced between Halifax and Nottingham as I was growing up."

"You guys were great," she assures him. They trade more memories about Vancouver and move on to the various pressures of being a captain, about off-season training. Robin laments his current trainer's retirement and the difficulty in finding another one. "I can always give you the name of mine in Montreal," Regina says without thinking. "Ingrid's pretty choosy, but I can put in a good word for you. She's definitely one of the best."

"Ingrid Norling is your trainer?" he whistles. "I'd have to think about it." He hesitates and reaches out to take a sip of his whisky. "My wife and I are going through a divorce and I'd like to spend time with my son…"

Regina shrugs, ignoring the way her heart has suddenly started racing. It seems Kathryn was right, but it's obviously still the early days. "The offer stands. Just let me know."

Mary Margaret collapses on the seat next to her, burbling something out in unintelligible French. "What?" Regina asks in the same language, shifting so she can see the younger woman's face clearly.

"The Americans are ganging up on me," she replies, glaring at the other table. Regina follows her gaze to where Kathryn, David, James, and Mulan are all clearly laughing at them.

"Olympics," is all Regina says and is met by a chorus of groans.

"Come on, Regina, that's a low blow! We'll get you back in Sochi, anyway!" Kathryn calls back.

"Keep dreaming!" Mary Margaret chirps. "I'm going to shut you out, just see. But only if Ursula's not starting," she informs Regina and Robin. "Because Ursula is amazing."

The two of them exchange amused looks. Mary Margaret is _definitely_ tipsy. "Ursula's planning on retiring soon," Regina informs her. "So I think you have a pretty good chance."

Before they leave Vegas, all four of the women have a photoshoot for _Sports Illustrated_. The order was handed out from the very top, so it's not exactly something they can refuse. Regina almost has an apoplexy when they get into wardrobe and someone suggests they wear their jerseys and close to nothing else. "You don't ask male athletes to do shi- _things_ like that, do you?" she says pointedly, wearing her captain face. She wishes, not for the first time, that she can punch Robert Gold in the face. Really, he shouldn't have any say in the kind of promotional things they do. Media weekends are bad enough.

"But-" the stylist starts, bewildered. "Hockey pads are so bulky."

"Yes, because all we're here to do is look pretty." Mulan's voice is flat and her arms are crossed.

They manage to negotiate wearing jerseys over skinny jeans or leggings with skates, with sticks, gloves, and helmets as props. Regina's actually very happy with how the cover turns out: she's standing and facing the camera straight on with her C on prominent display, her stick held loosely in both hands. Mary Margaret is kneeling on one knee in front of her, glove up. Kathryn's sitting with one hand holding up her stick, and Mulan's standing and staring over her shoulder, a helmet under her arm. The headline reads: _The toughest ones on the ice: Women in the NHL._

Robin does end up training with her in Montreal and it's…nice. She likes having company when Ingrid's intent on running her into the ground, though she's definitely used to Ingrid's methods. She's waiting for him at the finish line with a bottle of Gatorade after her first test: two miles in under twelve minutes. Regina did it in eleven minutes, forty-three seconds, Robin in fifteen minutes flat.

He takes the bottle with a grateful nod, eyeing Ingrid warily as she makes her way over to them from the stands. "You made that look easy," he remarks to Regina, looking her over appreciatively. "I feel like I should hate you but I think I admire you too much."

She preens a little bit because it's nice to _be_ admired. She's much more used to resentment. "It takes a lot to be the best."

"Indeed," Ingrid remarks, radiating disapproval as she looks Robin over. "Clearly I have plenty of work to do. But Regina's vouched for you, so you may stay."

"Great," Robin says, then mouths, "What have you gotten me into?" once Ingrid's turned her back. Regina just snorts.

She absolutely develops a crush on him by the time they leave Montreal for training camp, but she keeps it to herself because the man is still going through a divorce and that's not something she's equipped to deal with at the moment. She does think rather wistfully of their easy friendship and Robin's utter confidence (and outright admiration) of her abilities but figures if anything will happen, it will happen eventually. In the meantime, there's hockey to play and new rookies to welcome.

This includes Emma Swan and Ruby Lucas. She's a little jealous the Blackhawks have Emma _and_ Mary Margaret, never mind that Emma's taking a year to develop in the AHL. Ruby, on the other hand, goes straight to the Predators' roster, which is nearly unheard of for a defenseman.

Regina keeps tabs on Emma and Ruby, just as she does with Mulan, Kathryn, and Mary Margaret. She feels proprietary when it comes to them, like they're her hatchlings and dear god, will she fight _anyone_ who dares to go after them in any capacity. She adores Mulan's fierce loyalty and determination and the steps she takes to keep her head up when the Montreal media tries to tear her down. Kathryn's deadpan humor and delivery means she gives the best post-game interviews and Regina always gets a kick out of hearing how she's dressed down whatever idiot tried to go toe-to-toe with her during a game. Then there's Mary Margaret, equal parts devil and angel, who clearly took to heart the advice Regina gave her long ago because she's shaping up to be one of the best goaltenders in the league.

She doesn't know Emma and Ruby as well, but she will. She already knows Emma has some of the softest hands she's ever seen and can do the wildest things with the puck. Ruby is bright and rebellious and always seems to be laughing when she's out on the ice.

These are her women, her legacy, if she's feeling particularly self-congratulatory. The years of feeling alone and a little wrong for being a woman on top of a man's sport are gone. Regina would go through it all over again, because she looks at them and knows all the bullshit and pain and long practices are worth it. They're magnificent, her women, and they're going to light the league on fire.

* * *

 

The Caps are playing the Hurricanes at the beginning of the season when she takes a particularly vicious hit right into the boards. Her left shoulder hits the boards at a funny angle and she feels the _snap_ as white-hot pain radiates out from her chest.

Regina collapses onto the ice, gasping. She tries to push onto her forearms to get up, but her left side twinges again and she goes back down.

"Regina!" Cyrus is kneeling beside her. "Can you get up?"

"Cyrus, move!" Regina looks up and Tink is kneeling in front of her, eyes wide and concerned. "Are you all right?"

She grits her teeth and forces the words out. "Left shoulder…collarbone….something snapped. Popped. I don't know."

"Well, I can't exactly do anything here. If we help you up, can you skate back under your own power?" Tink asks.

What the fuck. "It's my shoulder, not my legs," Regina snarls. It's more than just pride: she can be injured but she cannot afford to look weak.

Tink laughs. "Atta girl. Cyrus, help her up, but be gentle."

The audience applauds when Regina makes it to her feet and begins skating gingerly back to the bench. She waves weakly at the guys before following Tink down the tunnels.

It's a broken collarbone, and they're estimating she'll be out for five to six weeks. It's the worst injury she's ever sustained. "What the hell am I going to do for five to six weeks?" Regina bellows at Tink once they received the diagnosis. "I've never been away for so long!" She's had assorted wrist, ankle, and knee injuries before, but never anything major.

"And yet you're going to," Tink responds firmly, unperturbed. "Unless you want to screw your body up even more. Now come on, we'll schedule your surgery as soon as possible."

She receives a flurry of get-well messages and texts once she's out of surgery. There are plenty of flowers, of course, but it's the personal touches that make her smile, like the Tim Horton's care package the team brings back from Montreal, with help from Mulan. She receives stupidly expensive chocolate from the other women, and Robin gets her favorite DC bakery to send her a fresh apple pie.

 _How did you find out?_ She texts him.

 _I have my ways,_ he sends back.

_No, really, I want to know!_

_I like knowing things about you._ She stares at her phone, a little flabbergasted, and it lights up before she can respond. _Is that creepy? You'd be perfectly within your rights to tell me so._

 _No, Robin. It's fine. I like it._ And she really, truly means it.

It's nearly enough to take her mind off the media frenzy. It's as though they've completely forgotten about the Stanley Cup, and all they can talk about is how she's letting the team down by not being there. Some of the trashier blogs snidely remark how the Caps are actually better off without her and they should give the C to someone else.

"I hope you haven't been reading those," Archie comments idly. Regina is perched on a chair in his office and the article tabs are open on her tablet. Regina just shrugs and wishes she were the type of person who slouched. "How's PT going?"

"I'm pretty sure Astrid's the devil. She's definitely taken the mantle from Ingrid." She still can't quite figure out how that works, because Astrid is the brightest, most upbeat, and soft-spoken woman she's ever met in her life.

Archie just smiles. "Isn't that how you know it's working?"

"If you say so."

He just nods and makes a soft noise. "You should go down and see the team. They miss you."

"Yes, I'm sure they just want the cloud of negativity hanging around," she scowls.

"You're being unfair," he chides. "You're their captain. They should be able to see you supporting them, even if it's not from the ice."

She shifts uncomfortably and curses under her breath when her left side protests. Sometimes Archie makes her feel like she's eighteen and awkward again. And fine, she's not that much older but she is very much an adult now, thank you very much. "I hate the press box." She doesn't belong there, she belongs on the ice with her team and sometimes she can't look at them without it hurting more than her broken collarbone.

"I'm not saying you need to be in the press box. But be there for practice. I know Astrid and Tink have cleared you for light skating, at the very least." He checks his watch. "In fact, they should be getting onto the ice right about now."

"Ugh, fine." Regina doesn't quite stomp out of his office but it's a close thing. She doesn't want to resent the guys because they can play and she can't. It's not their fault she's feeling angry and disillusioned and missing hockey so much she can't stand it.

Zelena is standing in front of the locker room with some of the Caps TV camera crew. She waves them down the tunnel and turns at the sound of Regina's footsteps. "Oh good, have you stopped moping?" she asks, crossing her arms. "Get your skates on and cheer on the team. It will be good for them."

"Good for the fans, you mean?" Because of course she'll have to give the crew some type of sound bite, if not interview.

"Them too."

It feels strange to put on skates without the rest of her gear. She can't even put on pads and a no-contact jersey, can't shoot pucks at Andy until all her frustration is gone (and he would let her, too). It makes her feel even more vulnerable, but Regina catches herself before she can fold in on herself, striding out towards the ice with her chin held high. She nods at Coach Spencer before stepping onto the ice, not really wanting to talk to him just yet.

The guys notice her right away. "Queens!" someone shouts, and suddenly they're all heading towards her as fast as their skates can carry them. She's lucky she's not iced.

"Are you skating with us?" Cyrus asks excitedly and he looks so much like a puppy dog. There's absolutely no way she can say no to that face.

"For a little bit," she says with a smile. The rest of the guys whoop loudly before Coach yells at them to get back to it. As they break away, they nudge her good shoulder gently, or tap her on the head with their gloves. The gestures settle the restless feelings that have been brewing inside her since the injury, and she's smiling by the time they're finished.

Rune and Taj hang back a little bit. "It's good to have you back, Millsy," Rune comments gruffly. "It's not the same without you." Taj nods, looking a bit guarded. Regina knows she hurt his feeling by refusing to answer any of his texts and phone calls. Even after all these years, he still feels responsible for her and still looks out for her like she's a rookie.

So she straightens her shoulders and reaches out to snag the sleeve of his jersey before he can catch up with the rest of the group. "Skate with me?" she offers.

Taj regards her carefully for a moment and takes the concession for what it is. "Sure thing, Regina." They skate in silence while Regina negotiates balancing with a bum shoulder. Finally, Taj speaks up. "Cyrus showed us the article about all of us apparently wanting a new captain. We're thinking of sticking Cs on all our jerseys for the Blue Jackets game tomorrow."

Regina barks out a laugh. "Please don't. I appreciate the sentiment, though."

"The offer is on the table. You should come with us, though. The guys would really like it if you did." He grins crookedly. "Who else is going to bitch at Mags when he starts playing country on the airplane?"

She's not as resistant to the idea as she would have been only a few hours ago. "…I'll think about it."

Regina's playing after six weeks, though it takes her a little while longer to adjust. She's hit her stride by the holiday season, just in time to face the Blackhawks at Soldier Field for the Winter Classic. It's the first time she's faced Mary Margaret on goal since they were in juniors.

She can see firsthand how much better the younger woman has gotten as a goaltender. So far she's blocked every single shot that's come her way, much to Regina's frustration. " _Tabarnac_ ," she hisses when Mary Margaret somehow manages to save one of her signature backhands.

Mary Margaret actually has the audacity to _laugh_ at her afterwards. " _Tant pis_ , eh?" she calls out and Cyrus has to herd her away before Regina can do something stupid like lunge at her.

Regina gets her back, though, on an absolutely beautiful unassisted breakaway that's certainly one for the highlight reels. Despite the hostility of the home crowd and the stupidly bright sun, the Caps pull off the win, 3-1.

"I still managed to shut you out a few times," Mary Margaret grumbles later when Regina drags her out for drinks. Their teammates are mingling on the rooftop terrace despite the cold and she has to admit DC doesn't have sights like this.

"Yes, you did. Keep working on it."

The Caps are busy beating the Islanders at home when the news breaks about Ruby Lucas' spring break shenanigans. Regina has no idea it's coming and is completely blindsided in the media scrum. "Do you have any comment on Ruby Lucas' spring break bender?"

She goes still. "What?"

The idiot reporter actually goes to show her some of the photos on his phone. "Is there anything you'd like to say about it?"

"I have absolutely nothing to say about it." Her voice has gone flat and hard, and has Taj stopping in the middle of his interview to stare. The reporters edge back a little bit, like she's going to start laying into them. It would serve them right. Coach, who Regina had no idea was still hanging around the locker room, ushers them out.

"What are you going to do about it?" Taj asks as they leave the Verizon Center.

"I'm going to talk to Ruby." It's a good thing their next game is in Nashville.

She's wholly unprepared for Ruby breaking down and crying on her shoulder, but Regina's good at rolling with the punches. She does, however, know exactly what to do with the hot ball of rage that forms in her gut when Ruby tells her how her team reacted to the whole fiasco.

Ruby's a _rookie._ Rookies make mistakes and the team needs to support them no matter what. Regina knows she and the other women will support each other no matter the circumstance, but they shouldn't be the only source of encouragement. She's absolutely _livid_ to find Ruby's team is not doing what they're supposed to.

And she hates how Ruby's clearly beating herself up about the entire thing. She looked so miserable in Regina's hotel room, clearly expecting some kind of lecture. Regina doesn't expect any of the other women to follow her path, nor does she want them to. They need to decide what's right for _them_.

She faces her team before Coach comes in for their pre-game talk. "Listen up, men. I know – that is, I hope all of you know better than to say anything about Ruby Lucas. I don't just mean tonight, but _ever_."

Andy frowns. "Why would we ever do that, Queens? Rookie mistake, it happens." The other guys nod in agreement.

Regina feels a soft flush of pride. She knows her guys, knows there isn't a single bad egg amongst them. Still, it is always reassuring to actually see them being stand-up guys. "Well, she's been getting a lot of shit about it, not just from the media. Her team's been on her too, and I'm not going to allow it."

"What, what?" Mags looks pissed. Next to him, Rune scowls around his mouthguard. "Her _team_?"

Her grin is vicious. "Exactly. So play hard."

"What about Ruby?" Cyrus asks.

It's a good point. "You've played other women. You know by now neither she nor I will thank you for playing less than your best. Just…play harder against her team." She won't ask them not to score on Ruby's icetime, but it's a promise she's making to herself, one that will make a clear statement.

Taj salutes. "You got it, boss."

The Caps play a physical game that night, much more physical than their usual style. Regina gets right into it, crushing Graham against the boards with a perfectly legal hit the moment Ruby comes off her shift. "Is this how you treat your rookies?" she demands. She only has time to register his stunned expression before she steals the puck and scores the first goal of the night. Every time she scores, she makes sure to stare down the Predators' bench so they know exactly what she's doing.

Coach raises an eyebrow when she comes back to the bench after scoring a hat trick. "Do I want to know?" he inquires.

"Probably not, Coach," she replies, twisting her lips in a grim parody of a smile.

"Hey, we're winning. That's what matters," Cyrus exclaims cheerfully.

At one point, Regina takes the faceoff against Michael Tillman and she stares him down, disappointed because she played with him at the ASG and thought he was a pretty good guy. She _knows_ he has a daughter. "How do you think it looks when my team treats your rookie better than you?" she asks conversationally as they turn their eyes on the puck.

Tills growls at her, flushing darkly in either anger or embarrassment. Perhaps both. "Like you're easy on any of the women in this league."

Regina wins the faceoff, ferrying it off to Taj before she slams against Tills neatly with her shoulder. "At least my hits are clean. Think about it."

Ruby hugs her tightly in the handshake line after the game. The Caps have won over the Predators, and the home crowd is decidedly unhappy. "I'm not going to thank you for beating us," she murmurs. "But…thanks for having my back."

"I will _always_ have your back," Regina promises fiercely.

The Caps lose the next game in Chicago, and then they're in Minnesota. It's a battle of the big men, namely between Mags and the Wild's John Little. It's like the two of them are competing as to who can let off the more ridiculous cannon.

After the second headshot on Andy, Regina goes after Little John, blithely tripping him even though he easily has a foot on her. "Watch yourself," she snarls before she takes off, passing the puck off to Rune, who bats it around to Cyrus, giving her enough time to get into place and knock one in, top shelf and squeaky clean.

The third time a Little John slapshot ricochets off Andy's mask, Regina starts seeing red. The next time the big d-man receives the puck, she neatly hipchecks him, aiming at just the right place so he goes tumbling. "Fuck _off_ ," she shouts this time, and is fully prepared for the whistle, even if she does make a token argument with the referee as she skates off to take her penalty.

"You want to stop targeting my d-men?" Robin asks when she comes out of the box.

"Go to hell," she returns sharply. "My guys aren't the ones headhunting."

Robin just makes a frustrated noise and skates towards his bench for a shift change.

They just barely squeak by with the win, and Regina finds herself waiting outside the Wild's locker room feeling uncharacteristically nervous. She never thought about how complicated it would be to like someone playing on another team. She's never considered dating someone on her own team because that's simply a disaster waiting to happen, but this is not exactly easy, either. She tries telling herself that she and Robin haven't exactly defined what _this_ is either, and she's probably worrying for nothing.

Several Wild players exit, giving her startled but not hostile looks. Even Little John offers her a fistbump as he leaves. "No hard feelings?" he ventures.

"No hard feelings," she responds solemnly. She tries not to carry anything onto the ice, or off it. Some days are better than others, but it's a process.

Robin eventually comes out, and he lights up when he sees her. Regina relaxes because evidently, Robin doesn't hold grudges either. "I wasn't sure if I was going to see you," he exclaims, coming in for a hug. Regina loves his hugs and the feeling of being completely enveloped. Robin's the type of man who hugs with every inch of his being. He smells clean and shower-damp, his hair wet against her neck. "Aren't you leaving tonight?"

"We are." She checks her watch. "You're going to have to drive me to the airport." Luckily, her stuff is already on the bus and Taj promised to take care of it for her (wiggling his eyebrows the entire time, damn him).

"I can do that," he agrees, moving back reluctantly. His hand slides down her arm until it reaches her own. He links their fingers together, watching her face the entire time. "Is this all right?"

Regina squeezes his hand and smiles. "This is fine." It looks like they're doing this, then.

He keeps holding her hand, even when they hop into his truck and he starts driving. "You don't mind if we take this slow, do you?" he asks hesitantly. "I've already screwed up one relationship and I don't want to do the same here. Not with you."

She chuckles softly, enjoying how _wanted_ his words make her feel. "We're in different conferences, I'm fairly certain slow is the only thing we can do. I don't mind. But hockey has to come first for me." She shrugs. "You should know that now. If it's something you can't handle, then we're better off staying friends." Even though she would love to explore the possibility of them becoming more.

Robin's already shaking his head. "I would never ask that of you, Regina. You are an unbelievable hockey player, stunning in every way."

Her breath catches a little bit at the confession and she really, really wishes they weren't flying out now. She would love to just have a little more time to see him and get to know him better. Actual dates would be nice. "You should come to Montreal again this summer."

"And endure Ingrid's tender loving care again?" he teases, pulling to a stop in front of the airport.

"I'll be there," she promises. "We can train and…hang out."

"Hang out, eh?" he muses, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as he smiles. Regina resists the urge to press her fingers into his dimples. "I think we can arrange something."

"Good." And before she loses her nerve, she fists a hand around the lapel of his suit jacket and tugs him forward. He opens his mouth instantly, moving forward and sliding his hands into her hair. It's slow and sweet and full of promise. Regina draws back, knowing she'll need to run out to the plane, but not before she bites lightly at his lower lip, grinning at his low groan. "I'll see you later."

They wave as she hops out of the truck. Regina bundles her coat around her, waving once more time as Robin honks before driving away.

She has hockey to play, goals to score, awards to win. But for the first time, she's looking forward to having something a little bit more.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this one isn't as shippy as the first two because this Regina's focus is, first and foremost, hockey. This is more a character study and shows how she paved the way for the other women, as well as all the hardships she had to face.
> 
> Is Regina Sidney Crosby? Essentially. Oh, and the official NHL awards she racks up here are as follows: the Calder (best rookie), the Hart (league MVP), the Art Ross (points leader), the Maurice "Rocket" Richard (top goal scorer), the Ted Lindsay (league's most outstanding player), and the Conn Smythe (Stanley Cup Finals MVP). And she wins some of them multiple times because she's that awesome.
> 
> The Solbergs are indeed Hans' brothers.
> 
> As always, I'm available to scream about this universe on [tumblr](http://somanyfandomssolittletime.tumblr.com).


End file.
